


Sitting Empty On Cold Stone

by ShadeShadow234



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen, Likely not botw2 compliant, Mourning, graves, post-BOTW, zelink kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21979954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadeShadow234/pseuds/ShadeShadow234
Summary: There are graves sitting alone in Hyrule Field.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	Sitting Empty On Cold Stone

**Author's Note:**

> We have to make a grave for my dad soon. Working through my feelings about that.

When all is said and done and the fields of Hyrule are quiet and filled with flowers, they erect graves. 

Hyrule Castle stands an empty spectre of death over a world long since done grieving and fearing, and where royal ceremonies once were held there now stands the emblems of the dead. 

The first is a towering spire of sandstone, glowing warm-orange in the sun. Gerudo phrases for rest and long sleep and the promise of a return twine around it, coming to rest on the humped back of a camel, carved proudly into the stark rock. “To the warrior. To the mother.” Reads the only hyrulian. 

Second is a shambled thing of diamond and sapphire, rubies hidden in groves under the previous blue stones. The sun hits it and it glows like the lights of a dying fire, like coal reflecting off of metal. There are no words, the Gorons are a tactile tribe and there has never been a need. A reddish sort of rock— a Goron delicacy— sits in front, hyrulian boldly proclaiming “To the protector. To the friendly.” A stone salamander scuttles underneath the words. 

Third is a finely constructed thing of cloth and wood and feather, wreathed into a circle not unlike the towering stone of Rito Village. Purple feathers shine in the sun, and here the words are written minutely into every branch, every twig. The hyrulian here is small and simple, as if it is unsure of its welcome. “To the proud. To the skilled.” 

Fourth is silver and luminous stone that promises shelter to travellers, stocked with food and water and medical supplies. The Zora honour their dead alone, but there isn’t a mind that disagrees about this grave. Hyrulian is inlaid with silver, etched proudly and finely into the precious stone. “To the healer. To what could have been.” A silver elephant strides proudly across the glowing rock, trumpeting rivers of diamond. 

The final two graves twine together; a sword and a wreath of cloth, carved from marble. The are not typical Hylian graves, but Hylian graves are unmistakably what they are. Written into the blade of the sword; “To the Champion”, and into the tuck and bulge of cloth; “To the Divine.” 

In a distant town best renowned for its dyes, a house that once stood empty glows with light and life. The clatter of dishes and the bright peal of laughter go hand in hand, dancing out the open window and into the night sky. Two horses rest easily in the stables, white and brown and fed on apples and flowers woven into manes. 

Everything is quiet. 

Everything is good. 


End file.
